


Vouchsafe This Truth

by Adjudicato, Winged (WingedVictory)



Category: Original Work, RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, Marriage, Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 13:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10641234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adjudicato/pseuds/Adjudicato, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingedVictory/pseuds/Winged
Summary: (A RWBY tale in the land of Talaeya) On the eve of the last war, two grand warriors will deliver a promise to one another. Under the blessing and coercion of their Empress, they settle a dance that has been ongoing for more than long enough. Let us look upon them and celebrate with them, for in the land of Talaeya, there are so few happy goings-on...





	1. Vouchsafe

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a friend based on a little talk. It is fragmentary and not meant to be taken or looked upon as a whole. What I present here is only an excerpt, and should be viewed as such before reading on. Credit goes to Winged for inspiration and provocation. I hope you'll all enjoy this little tidbit, written as a break from my current projects.  
> -A

Vouchsafe this Truth

By:

The Caretaker

 

ϔ

 

Some say the land of Halael was a terrible place. Beyond the Great Divide and its ever-shifting sands, where wars long forgotten raped the earth and left it forever scarred; across the endless poisoned swamps that stand between those sands and the kingdoms of the east. In such places, it is whispered and even outright said that Halael is a place only of suffering. A place of tyranny and despotism, ruled by a triune imperial hegemony that dates back to The Schism.

Oh, but such things are hardly true. So untrue in fact, they are almost laughable. Frightened whispers propagated by folk that can scarcely imagine a way of life beyond their own. A land where one willingly accepts the yoke of rule? Where one happily forfeits their freedom for the greater whole?

Preposterous!

But, Halael is such a land. It is a place divided amongst three empires, not unlike its eastern siblings. However, the people herein know they are _free_ in their bondage, that their sworn fealty grants them protection to pursue their lives as they wish. So long as they satisfy the merits to do such, of course.

Our story centers on two such individuals who, through force of will and strength of conviction, achieved the heights of their society in one of the empires of Halael. It is in Solaria their tale unfolds, foremost of the three and seat of all that is glorious.

One once known as the Ice Queen among her peers, born to the high and mighty to begin with, who sought only to bring honor once more to her family’s tarnished name. She who pursued the liberating power of martial prowess, and thereby made herself a chosen guardian of her Empress.

One once little more than a peasant in the fields of the far-lands, born to dust and rock and dirt and famine, who sought to pull her family from that pitiable reality by her own hand. She who also pursued the liberating power of martial prowess, accomplishing much the same goal and becoming entrusted with the safety of her Empress.

They are now known as Hoarfrost and Scarlet. And in years now long past, when they first began their upward march into infamy—by way of slaughter in the name of the crown—these two fell deeply and fast in love. It was as much a force of nature how they fell for each other as how they themselves rent the earth in twain, by show of their prowess.

But, as is the case in so many other places, Solaria is not the kindest to a union that cannot bear offspring. These are seen as detrimental to the state, and are almost entirely forbidden lest they are held to the side of a _true_ union—one which may bear children to further the land.

Oh, but the Empress these two protect, she is no such common ruler willing to suppress her subjects.

As we shall see.

 

Ͼ

 

It was one of the last days of the land of Halael, and the world Talaeya as a whole, that our tale begins upon. The sky was a dusty twilight, cast with the infinite blinking dots of the stars that lay above a canopy of bloody orange and whispering violet. Cold war-winds blew in staggering gusts, carrying the scent of uncountable bonfires and the oil of guns and the shavings of sharpened steel. Men and women both clamored in the valley below, settling into their seats and their meals. Chatting and swapping stories and dreams, laughing here and there to forget the tepid ease of the night before open conflict.

Above that valley where the soldiers clamored and gossiped, a small retinue had made the camp of Her Royal Eminence, Lady Anais the Small. Yet, one could hardly tell such from the outside as the tent was hardly anything of royalty, aside from its larger size relative to the soldiers’ below. Banners of the Royal Family—grand things of deepest black depicting a shining white sun at their center—flew to either side of the tent’s large entryway. Beneath each stood one of the Empress’s Hands, the most feared and revered of her legion’s warriors, handpicked to serve at her side until death.

This night, it was not Hoarfrost or Scarlet that stood there, watching the setting sun and awaiting any sign of conflict. Instead it was Mammoth and Whirlwind.

Mammoth, in his aptly fitting suit of armor (which looked not unlike a wall of iron), stood as stony as he ever did. Undaunted by the cold of the wind or the prospect of looming death on the morrow. His heart beat calm and steady, awaiting news from within the tent—much as Whirlwind across from him, standing equally calm and resolute in her sleek mail.

“Think they’ll really do it tonight?” Whirlwind asked, shifting slightly to lean on her lance.

Mammoth grunted his response. Sounded like a _yes_ to her.

“The Lady is kind as ever, isn’t she?”

Another grunt, another _yes_ sound-alike.

Inside the tent, it was a much different picture. There sat eight more fine warriors, in varying suits of armament and with varying weaponry beside them. These fine warriors—whom each could surely fell a hundred with little trouble—watched a group of four assembled at the tent’s rear. One sat upon a simple throne of wood, which amounted to little more than a fancy chair. Another stood beside her, eyes hidden by a funny-looking visor that permitted her to see. The last two—Hoarfrost and Scarlet, wouldn’t ya know—were knelt down before the one on the throne.

“You swear your loyalty to each other inasmuch as your fealty to me, yes?” The one on the throne asked. She looked so much like a child it was nearly laughable, though none gathered would tolerate such. Void-black hair lay pooled on her lap, glowing violet eyes stared intently at the two women knelt before her. Her pale skin turned gold in the dancing torchlight, covered with a flowing garment of fine lavender silk.

“I do.” Said Hoarfrost.

“I do.” Said Scarlet.

To the right of the throne stood another woman, this one with a tall pair of ears atop her head and a swishing tail dancing playfully behind her. Her lance hung on a rack some ten feet away, its head a depiction of a flying wyvern swooping in for the kill. The serpentine armor upon her moved like skin as she leaned over, toward her Empress, to whisper something.

“Ah, yes. I agree, Lady Talya.” The Empress said. Then, to her kneeling Hands: “If you plan to do this, there would be no better time than tonight. We sit upon the cusp of war, and like as not, death for we and our world.”

“ _Hail the Lady!!_ ” Erupted from the retinue of Hands, sudden and thunderous.

“Would the two of you swear your divinely ordained union before your fellow warriors this eve?”

Hoarfrost looked up. Her icy blue eyes were no longer hidden beneath the helm she usually wore. They met the Empress’s bright violets for a moment. After this, she looked to her side—to her love—and met the silver eyes of Scarlet.

“I would.” Hoarfrost said.

“As would I.” Scarlet agreed.

Talya clapped her hands together and stepped forth.

“Then it’s settled!” She exclaimed with unusual glee. “Everyone, spread the word and gather the mass! We have a _promising_ to attend to this eve! _Hail the Lady!!_ ”

“ _Hail the Lady! Hail Her Grace!!_ ” All Hands cried in unison, Hoarfrost and Scarlet included.

The eight stood and donned their gear, then left the tent with the wind at their heels. Hoarfrost and Scarlet remained, kneeling before their Empress.

Talya approached them and laid a hand on each of their shoulders.

“What you two have is nothing to be ashamed of, fine warriors.” Talya said. Her own eyes—white and marred with blindness—began to tear up behind her glowing visor. “The Lady has ordained and blessed this. Be with joy, I beg thee.”

Hoarfrost looked up first, eyes glistening with tears of joy and determination. Scarlet followed, equally as moved.

“May we use our given names?” Scarlet asked. Her voice quavered with a bit of fear.

Talya’s face straightened with surprise, and a moment after, she stood and turned to the Empress.

“Lady Anais?” Talya whispered, deferring in surprised wonder.

“Of course I’ll allow it.” Anais said. She gave a most disarming smile. “What better way to seal your oaths to each other?”

 

Ϯ

 

“Hear you all this decree!” Shouted Brimstone, seventh of the Hands. “Tonight, ere the morrow’s glow of war, Her Eminence Lady Anais hath ordained a union! In two bells’ time, Lady Hoarfrost and Lady Scarlet, of Her Eminence’s Hands, shall be sworn to one another under the eyes of our forebears! By the Lady’s holy word, this union shall be attended by all here present, and duly celebrated thereafter! _Hail the Lady!!_ ”

An absolutely mad burst of applause met this declaration, entirely filling the valley with thunderous echoes of joy and congratulation. Brimstone crossed his arms and smiled beneath his pointy hat. Oh, he’d known this would be coming for a long while now. Had he not been the one to push the lady Scarlet into approaching the lady Hoarfrost in the first place?

“You kids and your crushes…” Brimstone muttered to himself, still more than a little skeptical of such things.

But if it made them happy on this eve of death and destruction, he would certainly not complain. They were, after all, his sisters in blood and steel.

 

Ѩ

 

On the verdant fields of Kejaar, where the last of the elven kingdoms once stood, Scarlet had not been nervous. When the grand trees burned down around her and the verdant fields turned to soot, she had not been afraid. When the mad elves cried blood and war and death, charging in the hundreds to their doom at her hands, _she had not been worried._

She knew Hoarfrost was by her side. She knew if she fell, she would fall into her lover’s arms, under the will of her Empress. She knew what she was doing and why, and feared it not.

But tonight, though she still knew what she was doing and why, _Scarlet was most afeard._

Hoarfrost would stand with her—and why not, considering the occasion—but Scarlet was truly, utterly, animalistically terrified of what another bell would bring. In one more bell’s time, she would stand before fifty-thousand hardened men and women, her own brothers and sisters in steel, to declare something so very… _unwarriorly_ to them.

Scarlet had chosen this path, though. She’d left her home in the far-lands and journeyed to the Holy City Yssil, capital of Solaria, and sworn fealty to the legion. She’d trained hard and sleepless, climbing the ranks feverishly like a woman possessed. She had even reached the pinnacle—being named Proselyte Magnus—and been conscripted by the Empress herself, to serve a calling higher than any other in all the lands.

She had become a Hand of the Empress and been titled Scarlet.

There she had met Hoarfrost, another fresh recruit from the legion. And there she had discovered something in Hoarfrost that she found in no others, a grand secret that led her to falling so pitiably in love. Oh, how that love had blossomed, and oh, how the Empress had encouraged it when they were finally found out.

Why then was she so afraid this night, of this thing she so desperately wanted?

“Are you ready for this?”

Scarlet turned. There stood Hoarfrost, looking about as worried. She held her elbows with her arms crossed, just beneath the point most women were shapeliest. If not for her armor, Hoarfrost would have nothing to show there.

Ah, but Scarlet did not notice that.

“As ready as I’m going to get, I guess.” Scarlet sighed. “Are you afraid too?”

Hoarfrost met her eyes and smiled, then dropped her arms and walked closer. She took Scarlet up in her arms, squeezed her with unexpected strength, and whispered into her ear.

“Hile, Milady. I see you well and fear nothing in your presence.”

Scarlet chuckled at that, returned the hug with equal vigor.

“Hile, I see you well also.” Scarlet whispered. She planted one nip of a kiss on Hoarfrost’s neck.

As they shared this embrace, the bell tolled the last hour. One more until midnight. One more until their promise was given before the masses, and before Her Eminence.

“I see you and I know you…” Hoarfrost whispered.

“I know you and I keep you…” Scarlet whispered.

Together they said: “ _In mine heart, I hide thee._ ”

Then they kissed true.

 

Ϯ

 

The last bell of the day chimed and the soldiers gathered. A wooden platform had been hastily constructed after Brimstone made the announcement, and below it there now thronged a crowd of armored men and women. Beer and ale and wine was passed about in tankards. Chicken thighs and slices of pork and plates of all sorts of vegetables were handed out. Beneath helms and pot-hats and arming caps, faces were rosy with joy, parted with great smiles.

Men danced in a particular spot not far from the platform. A goodly sized bonfire had been stoked and now reached to the black heavens above. Arms interlocked and mouths chanting marching tunes, they swung round-n-round. Sloshed their tankards and stopped to have a sip. Some belched or farted to make room for more. Some laughed at this crass display, then went straight to it themselves.

In a word, it was utter elation.

Her Eminence had not yet appeared, but the mood was certainly set. Even the Hands had joined in.

Brimstone and Whirlwind danced the two-step next to each other. Some were actually frightened to see the dour Brimstone smiling— _smiling,_ gods’ sakes—but made no fuss for it. Whirlwind looked to be enjoying herself as well, giggling like she hadn’t in nearly two decades.

Off at the stage, standing just at the foot of it, was the rock-like Mammoth. He’d kept his armor on but left his great hammer and wall-like towershield at the tent. Now, he stood there tapping his right foot to a beat being played by a few soldiers near the large bonfire. Under his mountain of a great helm, Mammoth too was grinning.

Throughout the crowd, the others were scattered about, equally enamored with the mood and enjoying themselves duly. Ballistus was so into it, she had gone and broken one of her favorite longbows. Trying to jam along with the band of soldiers strumming on their lutes and drums, she had snapped the string and broken the limbs in a brief fit of rage thereafter.

Oculus had gone about drinking and carousing with all the vigor in his young bosom. He’d abandoned his robes and hat, and now galivanted about in only his skivvies. Across his eternally tanned face was the widest, goofiest smile he’d ever shown. When they were opened enough to see, one could tell the depth of his joy in the twinkle of his deep blue eyes.

Dracos, Tsunami and Landslide were busy putting together fireworks and showing off simple magics to please the gathered crowd.

The oldest and youngest of the Hands, Titanic and Cosmos respectively, were putting the last of the raspberry pudding away. It had been meant as a treat for celebration if the day was carried in the looming conflict, but with the air about tonight they saw no reason not to go ahead and dig in. After passing portions out to all present—and setting aside some for Her Eminence, Talya, and the guests of honor—the two set to helping themselves to what was left.

All in all, any outside observer could not possibly tell this was a legion gathered for war. For better or for worse, tonight at least, they were a crowd gathered to celebrate the union of two of their own.

Oh, and it was so very good indeed.

 

Ͼ

 

When midnight finally tolled, Anais was the first to mount the platform. She stepped up with all the grace and reserved elegance of her station, void-black locks carried behind her by the much taller Talya.

Anais stopped at the center of the hasty-made stage, raised her arms to the sky and cried out.

“My people, do your hearts swell with joy this night?!”

The crowd of armored soldiers raised a drunken, merry shout in response. Some managed the words of their oath— _Hail the Lady_ —but others could only howl their agreement. Regardless, Anais smiled at this. Talya did as well, thankful her half-mask hid it.

“Raise your voices then!” Anais cried out. “Give the Gods your joyous cries, and let our forebears know why we are gathered in celebration tonight!”

Some did indeed. Some only howled once more. Poor Oculus—far too besotted to really know where he was by this point—slurred some sort of approval of his own. It sounded like a simple, drunken guffaw.

Anais turned to Talya and said, “Bring them, my friend. It is time.”

Talya bowed and placed the Empress’s hair at her feet, then departed to do as bid. A minute later she returned, Hoarfrost and Scarlet (nervously) in tow. They followed her to the stage and onto it, where all three stopped beside the Empress.

Her Eminence looked up at them—being only half their height, this was unavoidable—and gave a warm smile. Almost motherly it was.

“Are you ready, then?” Anais asked them.

Both bowed in response.

“Oh, come now. We’re here to celebrate with you, happy fools. No pretenses tonight, I beg thee.”

Oh, to hear a ruler even _suggest_ deference was unthinkable. And yet, none too many were surprised by this. The neighboring Empires had long whispered of the young Anais, aptly titled for her stature and age, and how familiar she was with her subjects.

But that was neither here nor there. Thus, Hoarfrost and Scarlet swallowed their nerves and stood straight.

“Ah, much better.” Anais cooed. “Now, approach the crowd. We’ll get this underway, shall we?”

They did as bid, and Anais retreated to a dais at the stage’s rear (which was little more than a box) to begin her decree. Once upon it, she raised her arms to the black heavens again.

“Hear you all, my faithful and loyal who gather with me this eve!” A hush swept the crowd. “Lady Hoarfrost and Lady Scarlet hath made a declaration most joyous unto me, their sworn Empress. With love and surety in their hearts, they hath spoken words of faith and fidelity before me. Thus, I offered they to accept a union, _despite_ the callous rule of our senate!”

“ _Hail the Lady! Hail Her Grace!!_ ”

“Oh, hush that!” Anais cried out, then chuckled. She sounded like a squeaky toy.

“ _Hail Her!!_ ”

Anais sighed and looked to Scarlet and Hoarfrost.

“You have both accepted mine offer, have you not?”

“We have.” They answered in unison.

The Empress smiled and said, “Then I will say this…”

She looked upon the crowd of her legion and threw her arms to the sky one last time.

“Under burden of my crown; under authority of my station; under the watch of our forebears; by the divine word of our Goddess! I declare these two to be reserved unto one another, from this day until the crown lies split! Until such time as our Empire crumbles and our people scatter, let every book and every mouth and every word declare this promise! _Let this truthful union be vouchsafed by my word!!_ ”

Anais looked to her two Hands and grinned ear to ear. She stepped off the dais and pointed to it. They understood and mounted it after her.

“Your turn.” She whispered to them with a wink, before leaving the stage entirely. Talya followed her—carrying her seven feet of hair once more—to sit among the Hands gathered at the foot of the stage.

Hoarfrost looked into Scarlet’s eyes, deep and longing. Scarlet did the same, smiling wide and happy.

With a deep breath, Scarlet began.

“Weiss Schnee, who is called Hoarfrost of the Hands. Do you accept my offer of undying commitment?”

Hoarfrost smiled.

“I do, Milady.” She said. Then: “Ruby Rose, who is called Scarlet of the Hands. Do you accept my offer of undying commitment?”

Scarlet burst into silent tears, smiling wide despite them.

“I do.” She managed to choke out through the twin rivers of her eyes.

There was no more to be said; it was all now delivered in full and in true. Thus, Scarlet closed in first for what was left. Hoarfrost moved hardly a moment after, and they met together before the thronging crowd of the legion.

Beneath the star-speckled void of the heavens; in the glow of the bonfires and torches all about; before the eyes of every one of their comrades in arms and the gaze of their Empress…

Ruby and Weiss shared the first kiss of their union to an earthshattering applause.

Oh my, was it not good?

 

_-A Fine End-_


	2. Pale Rider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talaeya is no place for happiness to be permanent. Only truth in the Valley of Death, but also impermanence and sorrow in that truth. Yet, perhaps one ending is not the only ending?  
> Oh, we may never know...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written hastily (in three hours) to a song of the same title. I wrote the first installment of this excerpt with this ending in mind, as this all plays into an original story of my own design that I wanted to have a little fun with. But I beg you all, dear readers, not to look upon this if sorrowful things are not your cup of tea. I am tired and this is nothing happy, I assure you. If, however, you can find enjoyment in a sad story, then by all means. But you have been warned.

_Pale Rider_

 

Ϯ

 

Morning came and they awoke. To the smell of fire and whiskey and ale, this was. Aftermath of the previous night’s celebration. It was a bygone dream now, that yester-eve. The _promising_ had been done and an evening of carnal insight had been spent between Scarlet and Hoarfrost. But now it was morn, and with that came the inevitable.

They were Hands of the Empress, Anais, and now it was time to fulfill their duty.

Weiss awoke first. Her bare chest was cold now and she looked for a shirt of some sort before anything else. Once she’d covered herself, she woke Ruby shortly after. The woman’s silver eyes fluttered, sleepy and hazed, but awareness came to her quickly enough. Weiss sat down on the bed beside her.

“Time?” Ruby asked.

“Time.” Weiss answered.

“Think we’ll make it?”

Weiss thought about that, buttoning up her shirt and slipping on her leggings. She handed Ruby some garments as well and stood from the bed.

“I think what will come will come.” Weiss said at last. She crossed the empty tent and poked around their pile of arms and armor, until she’d found her dainty rapier. Staring at it, she mused, “All the Gods and forebears smiled on us last eve, my dear. Who are we to deny them honor this day?”

Ruby sat up and tossed on the shirt Weiss had given her, then did the same with the pants. Such soft cotton it was. A luxury she’d never have believed would one day be hers, in those days so long ago in the far-lands.

“ _Hail the Lady…_ ” Ruby muttered, standing from the bed and crossing the tent to join Weiss by their gear.

“ _Hail Her Grace…_ ” Weiss whispered.

The older Hand stood straight and handed Ruby her sickle. The younger took it and looked at its curved blade, still shining as if new despite being centuries old by this point. The one she’d made herself upon joining the legion was long gone now—replaced by this royal heirloom—as was her family. None remained now to tie Scarlet of the Hands to this world, save one.

Ruby looked up from her sickle to watch Weiss don the rest of her armament, admiring the ephemeral beauty and seraphic poise of the older woman. Though it was only two Winters that separated them, the time told clear on Weiss’s face. She’d borne much in the namesake of her family, tolerating the atrocities only in hopes of redeeming her lineage. Oh, Ruby so admired that in her…

“Hile, Milady.” Ruby said.

Weiss stopped clasping the latches of her cuirass and looked over, meeting Ruby’s hard-glaring silver eyes.

“Hile.” Weiss answered, trying for a smile. “What troubles you?”

Ruby hesitated, then said, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Nor I, you.” Weiss moved closer, dropping her breastplate. “But we are _called_ , my dear. We swore an oath long before our _promising_ was given, no?”

The younger Hand leaned in close and was wrapped up in the older’s grip, pulled into a warm embrace. 

“I’ll not leave you flippantly, Ruby Rose.”

Ruby looked up into the icy-blues above her; met them with a yearning, pleading grimace that almost looked as if it wished to be a smile.

“Would you begrudge me if I chased after you, should you fall?” Ruby asked, voice quavering sorrowful.

Weiss did not answer. Instead she hugged her _promised_ tight and began to stroke her raven locks. An old parable occurred to Weiss as she did this, standing with her newly declared love on the far side of the tent.

Long ago there had been a story widely told, of a man on a white horse. His eyes were said to be of the brightest blue, his flesh and hair the alabaster-white of fresh-fallen snow. _Pale Rider_ they called this man, and it was said that wherever he went, blood flowed as water and life fled this world as if afeard. Young boys would be cautioned not to become enamored with this man’s profession, which was bloodshed and war. Likewise, young ladies were warned not to be ensorcelled by the man on the white horse, for his name was _Death_ and ruination followed at his heels.

_Dying is no way to make a living_ , the story had said. _Killing is no way to live a life_.

Stroking Ruby’s hair and feeling the woman shiver lightly in her arms, Weiss contemplated meeting the _Pale Rider_ this day. On the field of glorious combat, all were equal and all were even. Blood is red no matter the race or creed or dogma, as she’d truly come to see now. The _Pale Rider_ might meet them there and ask them to make good on their oaths, sure, but he would be no more likely to come for they than any others.

“Ruby, listen here…” Weiss said at last, releasing her _promised_ and pushing her away a tad.

She locked their gazes together for a moment, then took a deep breath to clear her head.

“Our oath to kith and kin is a glorious thing. Our oath to each other is an _exalting_ thing. But the oath we made on the day we became Hands?”

Hoarfrost of the Hands, great and mighty warrior of well-earned infamy, found something most unsettling happening to herself. As she stared into the eyes of her love, who now looked ready to openly weep, she felt her own heart starting to falter. But she would brook no dishonor to either of them, least so if given by their own hands.

And so, she took one more deep breath to bid her heart to calm.

“The Lady has chosen to fight with us this day, on the edge of The Divide. She would see the heathen _Kingdoms_ with her own holy eyes. She would take up the Royal Family’s sacred magics beside we, her humble servants, in defense of the land. How could we ever live if we betrayed so fine a woman as that?”

Ruby looked away. Not ready to settle, Weiss gently took hold of her chin and pulled Ruby’s gaze back.

“We may go to meet Death himself, I don’t doubt, but we’ll go as _promised_ , my love!” She stole in for a quick kiss, then said, “I’ll not leave thee flippantly, but neither shall I let you even _entertain_ the notion of dishonoring yourself. You’re so much better than that…”

At last, Ruby looked to rally and recover. The glint of determination settled back into her silver eyes, to which Weiss could only smile.

“Do you know why I love you so?” Ruby asked.

Weiss tilted her head but did not answer.

“You’re everything I’m not, Weiss. You’re unwavering even when everything seems so unreasonable. You’re strong even when there’s no reason left to be…”

It was a laugh that silenced Ruby, loud and sharp and sudden.

“And you think you’re none of those things?!” Weiss cried out between her laughter.

Ruby opened her mouth to answer, but was stopped.

“Hush now, fool, and listen. _You are all of those things too_!” Now she stepped in close again, pulled Ruby to her quite forcefully. “I’ll not hear any more of your self-deprecation, Ruby Rose. It is unwarranted and unfounded—borderline heresy even!”

No more was said after that. Weiss initiated a fierce, hungry kiss and continued it for some time, until breathing through their noses was not enough to sustain them. When that lack of air came and they parted, one last wild stare was passed between them. Both nodded, and in the silence that followed, dressed and armed themselves.

Rallied to each other as well as their oaths once more, Scarlet and Hoarfrost of the Hands left their tent. They walked to the tent which held their Empress, hand in hand, ready to meet the day and whatever it might bring.

It was the fifth bell of the morning when dawn broke and the _Pale Rider_ came to visit this field in the shadow of The Divide…

 

Λ

 

Now, my dear reader, I would beg thee to think, and if easily sorrowed, to cry off this tale.

Here we have the Hands thirteen and their revered Empress, Lady Anais the Small. They stand in a line overlooking a grisly scene. Below them, in the valley separating Halael from The Divide, men and women are dying.

Swords and spears are swung and thrust with malice, ire, spite and hate. Two grand armies are presently vying to assert themselves as the victor to _History_ , that immovable and uncaring eternal force. There is a greater power at work which causes these things, but this is known to none of the participants here. They know only that their way of life is threatened and that nothing short of the eradication of the enemies present may avert that threat.

Cannons roar loud in the distance. Magic fire burns swaths of black into the verdant field, torching flesh and blood and bone to cinders with indiscriminate ferocity. Arrows are loosed from their strings and bullets crash from their barrels, hurtling to find breast or head within which to bury themselves.

Screams too, many of those. Some gurgled and some shrieked, but all come from those who are not so eager as to meet the _Pale Rider_ this day. Pain is in those cries of death, along with much penitence and sorrow. These men and women know they leave families behind; they know their loved ones will not see them again outside the _clearing_. And oh, how they do lament that; how they _do_ gnash their teeth and shriek their sorrow…

And up on the hill, where the Hands thirteen stand with their Empress, one knows her time has come.

 

Ϯ

 

Weiss watched the battle with surgical detachment, just as she’d been well trained to do.

Her eyes crawled across the thronging crowd of killers, shouting and screaming and cursing and bleeding. She was watching, and hoping too. Hoping, that is, that the moment she feared was not so close as it seemed.

“Do you see the left flank, Milady?” Talya asked, leaning down toward the Empress.

“I do.”

Anais certainly showed no portion of her fear, but it was mighty no less. She had only been upon Talaeya for twenty years now and was hardly herself considered a woman. At eight, she’d been thrust into the seat of her father, Haedrid, and the role of Empress of Solaria. How could she do aught aside fear such a scene?

But she would show none of that, nor would she brook its hold on her. Fear would be denied as every other useless emotion.

“They’ll break through ere long, Milady.” Talya said.

Anais looked up and met her First Hand’s blind eyes, hidden though they were behind her odd visor.

“Did the scouts ever achieve a proper count of them?” She asked.

Talya nodded gravely, saying, “Yes, Milady. They are four-hundred-thousand strong, likely brought from all four kingdoms.”

The Antryn looked over the field. Her ears turned this way and that, seeming to play with the breeze that carried the awful scents of war. Blood and piss and dung, gunpowder and burnt steel and melted flesh. Her nose wrinkled at this.

“If they take the high ground on our left, then they hold a clear path to Stella. Should Stella fall…”

Anais stopped Talya with a tug on her hand. The Antryn looked down, at her Empress, and hushed at once.

“Neither Stella nor Luna shall fall this day, nor any other so long as I draw breath.” Anais said. “Is there anything we can do to ruin the route?”

None of the Hands offered anything at first. What the Empress was suggesting was something they had certainly considered, but none had thought it would truly be necessary to act on this notion. The route was in fact the only way to reach Stella other than braving the Long Shore, where the curse of the _waterlings_ yet hung strong.

It had been two centuries now since a ship was able to safely navigate that gargantuan river…

“Eliminating the route would effectively cut Stella off.” Brimstone said, voicing the thoughts of the rest.

“And would it not also protect them from the heathen horde?” Anais shot back. She’d not shown such ire in her voice in quite some time, longer than most of the Hands had been with her.

Brimstone made no answer. He merely grunted and crossed his arms, hoping to come up with _something_ while there was yet time to. And he might have, if given the time; time which, unfortunately, may as well not have existed, as short a supply as it was in here.

In the end, it was Hoarfrost that spoke up with a viable plan.

 

Ϯ

 

“You don’t have to do this!” Ruby cried out.

She was hot on Weiss’s heels, trying to keep up with the fleeing Hand. Normally, this would be no problem at all. Ruby had always been the faster of the two, what with her uncanny blessing that was nigh unto flight. But this was _not_ any other day, and was in fact a most terrible day indeed.

_I can collapse the entire valley on that end,_ Weiss had said to their Empress. The words still hung in Ruby’s head like an awful lie, but she knew them truth. The terror those words brought to her weakened her muscles, making the chase most difficult indeed.

_Dust_ was what Weiss’s family—the Schnees, do it please ya—called their miraculous secret. It was an alchemical marvel created by the original patriarch of the family, the one Weiss reverently called Gran’da. With the aid of _Dust_ , even the most magically inept could cast grand spells beyond the ken of even initiated wizards. Luna had almost gone to war for this miracle, fearing it would relieve them of their place as the magically enlightened.

Of course, nothing is free; nothing is wonderful without a price to be paid.

That price, as it was found out eventually, was that few could harness the blessing of _Dust_ without succumbing to it. Whatever process activated such powerful channeling of Talaeya’s Breath within the wielder also broke down their soul’s connection to the body, rendering them a husk if overused.

Weiss knew this, as did Ruby. The _whole_ of Solaria knew it, as did Luna to the North and West. It was because of this drawback that war had been averted. And it was because of _this drawback_ that Ruby chased after Weiss, pleading at the top of her lungs.

None of the other Hands, nor the Empress herself, tried to stop her…

 

Ͼ

 

_Don’t fall in love with the Pale Rider…_

Weiss’s feet beat the ground with purpose and finality. The air was crisp and cool, but tinged awfully with the scent of burnt blood by now. Seven bells had passed since they met the day, and now the battle seemed all but lost.

Somehow, the Kingdoms had won the upper hand early on. She had no idea _how_ that was, but the logistics of it mattered little to Weiss at this point. What mattered to her most—even more so than her love, so sorry indeed—was that Stella not be threatened by the heathen incursion. The Schnee Family’s greatest factories in Solaria would be nothing if their supply line in Stella was removed, thereby cutting them off from the ingredients required to make _Dust_.

No, this simply could not be allowed. Furthermore, being that she was the acting face of the Schnee Family at present, it fell to her to ensure this did not transpire, even if that meant temporarily cutting the supply line herself.

Now, one must realize she’d made damn sure there was no other way first. Weiss had checked beforehand on the situation with their explosives and magicant arsenal. And to her horror, it was no better news than the left flank: a misguided cannon volley had found an even sweeter mark than it was aimed at, eradicating the supply of weapons capable of collapsing the valley as she planned.

“There’s no other choice!” Weiss shouted over her shoulder.

Oh, how she wished Ruby had not followed her. She knew what waited just over the next hill’s crest, and wished no part of the sight on Ruby. But there was nothing to be done of it…

“Stop!” Ruby cried out, voice cracking and lungs burning. “Just stop, Weiss! We’ll figure something else out!”

For a miracle, Weiss did stop. She dug her heels into the dirt and skidded to a halt. Ruby nearly crashed into her back, so sudden was this.

“What would you have me do, then?!” Weiss screamed upon turning around to face her love. “Those _heathen_ _bastards_ would pillage Stella and burn it to the ground! Women, children, elderly, sick— _they’d slaughter them all!_ ”

Ruby tried to protest, but was far too given for breath.

“Listen,” Weiss went on, “I don’t want this any more than you do. But there’s _no choice left_ , Ruby! I’m the only one here that _can_ collapse that passage…”

Below them—at the foot of the cliff they stood on—the sound of war was close and jarring. Steel rang loud and screams filled their ears. Blood spattered audibly, now filling up the ground upon which the soldiers fought. Weiss looked down at this. Ruby did the same a moment after. Both watched that awful scene, knowing it would be visited on all of Halael if they did not stop this here.

“I’m doing it with you, then.” Ruby said.

Weiss looked up fast. So much so, her helm nearly slipped from its rest on her crown.

“No.” Was all Weiss managed.

Ruby met her gaze, eyes all but aflame, and said: “You won’t stop me. If you’re doing this, then I’m helping and we can enter the clearing holding hands.”

The older Hand considered protesting further, but eventually decided against it. Time was quickly running from them and she knew it would be a hard-won argument, if she even won it at all. So, she relented, not wishing to part on a sour note.

“Do exactly as I say so you don’t blow us up, alright?”

Ruby only nodded.

“Very well. Come on, there’s a good vantage just up the way. We can channel from there.”

Neither said another word, only ran on up the hill.

 

Λ

 

_It’s one more killing to the man that has no name…_

Oh, but the _Pale Rider_ had a name indeed. And if one looked, one would see the white horse. On it would sit a man of whitest flesh, bluest eyes, snowiest hair. Ruination follows in his wake, and on him is a name emblazoned as if a glowing brand.

Look, and behold, the _Pale Rider_ , for the name it says on him is _Death_. Oh, and how damnation follows with him…

 

Ͼ

 

Weiss and Ruby had never spoken of the stories told them as children. Neither knew the other was familiar with the cautionary tale of the _Pale Rider_ , though that mattered little now.

Now it was time, and both stood ready to finish their tasks and make good on their oaths to the Empress. The valley path to Stella would be protected, even if that meant its destruction. And that destruction would be writ with these women’s last breaths, signed with their final act of defiance against the heathen Kingdoms of the East.

Hoarfrost of the Hands took the first dose. She chose a bottle of a most vibrant violet hue, a brew designed to allow for channeling of magics aligned to umbral ice. To her _promised_ she’d handed a bottle of fiery crimson, glowing angry as hellfire. This one would allow the channeling of powerful magics aligned to astral fire. Together, they could surely wreak the havoc needed to collapse the countless tonnes of rock lining either end of the valley passage.

“Drink it down and try not to puke.” Weiss said, clutching Ruby’s hand tight. “It tastes like absolute ass, but I assure you it won’t outright harm you. Not for a time, at least…”

“And you?” Ruby asked in return, no self-preserving concern in her voice.

“ _I_ will drink my own and do the same. A few drops is the usual dose, but the whole thing should give us one hell of a fireworks show.”

Ruby looked at the glowing orange-red bottle in her hand. Loathe to do so, she let go of Weiss’s hand and undid the cork on top. With scrunched face and quickly teary eyes, she drank down the rank contents, doing her best to suppress the retching that came immediately thereafter.

Weiss did the same, trying not to laugh at both of their reactions.

“Ever cast any magic?” She asked.

“Of course not.” Ruby choked out between retches.

“Then listen close, and do _exactly as I say_.”

The older Hand straightened up and held out one hand, palm open and pointed toward the crowd of soldiers below.

“Concentrate on what you’re wanting. I know the stories and pictures say there’s chants, or some spiritual mumbo-jumbo, but that’s just nonsense. You hold an image in your mind—an idea of what you want to happen—and let Talaeya channel through you…”

As Weiss spoke, her hand began to glow just a tad. More incredible though, it started to exude a mist as if icy-cold.

“Now, with that image in mind, beg Talaeya with your heart and pour all of yourself into it.”

Her hand started misting ever more, until at last it flashed with blinding light. There was a sharp click and a loud crash. Ruby looked below and saw the gargantuan chunk of ice, formed from nothing, that had smashed a large portion of the fighting mob. It was bloody on the bottom and cracked almost halfway through.

“I hope you got that,” Weiss said, “because I’m only going to have enough for one more go.”

She pointed across the valley to the other side.

“I’m going to freeze a good hundred yards of that rock wall. After I do, you’re going to turn that frozen rock molten. Got me?”

Ruby nodded, now starting to feel funny and fuzzy.

“Stay with me now.” Weiss said, knowing the look in her love’s eyes. She reached out and took hold of her shoulders, pulled her close one last time for a strong hug.

“Will it work?” Ruby asked dreamily.

Rather than answer, Weiss kissed her. Furious and wanton, wishing to imprint this as the last thought on her mind. If the clearing awaited her, it was _this_ image she wished to bring along for the walk.

“Oh, it will work.” Weiss said after exiting that kiss. “It will work most certainly…”

 

Ω

 

They held hands for the end of it. And that end came bright and glorious, surely as much so as anything witnessed by those that saw them. Fast too, thankfully…

Ruby took hold of Weiss’s hand and they both stepped to the edge of the cliff. The older Hand raised hers first, palm pointed to the cliff on the other side. In her head she beckoned forth the image of ice and the sensation of fierce cold. She held it there and begged Talaeya, pleading for the strength to see it all through as much so as the power which she needed to borrow. Talaeya heard that cry it would seem, for the very earth beneath them visibly poured energy from its surface into the Lady Hoarfrost.

“Be ready to do it as soon as I’m finished.” Weiss whispered.

Ruby squeezed her hand once in understanding.

The ground continued to offer up its bounteous energy and Weiss continued to hold that image in her mind’s eye. This went on for maybe two entire minutes before aught else. But when it was done, the older Hand opened her eyes and watched her work unfurl.

Across the way, the rock froze just as she’d bid. Pale yellow rock turned white as snow, frozen through and through in an instant. Weiss smiled at this for only a moment before collapsing. Ruby dropped to her knees immediately.

“Weiss!” She shouted. “Weiss, don’t! _Please_!”

In response, Weiss reached up with the last of her strength and slapped Ruby. Hard and fast, snapping her out of it.

“Don’t waste this, _dolt_!” Weiss spat, a little harsher than she’d intended. “Do as I showed you, and let us be done with it!”

Not wanting to but having little other choice, Ruby stood. It was a hard-won battle not to collapse back to her knees, but she managed. She steadied herself and began to enact the tiny lesson Weiss had given.

To her mind she called the image of a roaring fire. Then, deciding that wasn’t enough, she instead beckoned the image of a deific forge. A monolithic thing she imagined the Gods themselves would’ve used to make the world beneath her feet. In its belly, she saw the glow of a thousand suns, feeling their heat immediately begin to crawl into her fingers.

“Good…” Weiss muttered, choking and fading fast. “Now, beg the world to loan you her essence. _Implore_ Talaeya to furnish you with fire…”

Trying hard not to lose her concentration, Ruby did as Weiss bade her. She focused intently until she could feel that fire true, then begged Talaeya for her strength. And just as with Weiss, the world answered visibly. The ground began to exude energy once more, a foggy orange this time that all but bled heat. Into Ruby’s hand this flowed, turning it the white-hot of a steel billet just about ready to melt.

Just as Weiss, Ruby did this for some two minutes. And just as Weiss, she opened her eyes the moment it was done, feeling all the energy and will bleed from her at once.

Over where her _promised_ had frozen the rock so deeply, Ruby saw an amazing sight. It glowed _pink_ and bright, like nothing she’d ever beheld. But only for a moment, that was. For it was in the next instant that the reaction occurred and the rock blew like a thousand tonnes of the strongest explosives Solaria could produce.

Before the massive shockwave and fireball engulfed them, Ruby dropped onto Weiss and embraced her. Weiss felt that embrace in the moment she slipped away, mere instants before the flame reached her. Ruby however, having unwittingly channeled her entire spirit into the heat, slipped away the moment she embraced her _promised_. Neither felt the flame or the shock.

Off some four miles, the Hands eleven and the Empress watched the grand ball of fire climb into the sky and lap at the clouds. The ground beneath them shook and shuttered with the force of it as the valley passage collapsed upon itself on the North-Western end. Anais breathed a somber sigh of relief, knowing that Stella would be safe for at least a while longer.

Yet, was the price paid worth it?

Perhaps in the grand scheme it was, but perhaps also it was far too cruel a price to levy on such kind and faithful servants as the Ladies Hoarfrost and Scarlet. Both volunteered, this couldn’t be denied, but that made it no less a sorry proposition.

Yet in the end, Scarlet and Hoarfrost did walk into the clearing at the end of the path together, hand in hand with smiles across their faces.

Surely that counts for something, no?

 

_-_ _A Mournful End-_


End file.
